


Sherlock's Favorite Cookie

by Venturous



Series: Sweet Surprise [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 2, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 07:59:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3480473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venturous/pseuds/Venturous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly discovers a way to disarm Sherlock, however briefly, and catches wind of a visit from the mysterious missing Holmes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlock's Favorite Cookie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BootsnBlossoms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BootsnBlossoms/gifts).



> dear BootsnBlossoms,   
> this is my first Purim Gifts, and I am an ignorant goyim, so please forgive any laughable or painful lapses in my knowledge of Judiasm. I love introducing this thread of ancient faith into the Sherlock story.

The following morning Molly was elbow-deep in a fresh corpse when Sherlock breezed in and surprised her. God, she hated that. How he threw her off her stride in the first few seconds, so he never, ever saw Molly-the-Competent, Molly-the-Confident, the woman whom she played quite convincingly in her job all the time.

As she peeled off her gloves, she watched him gesticulating, describing in dramatic detail his desperate need for a precise list of fresh body parts for his case, wondering why, since she was a lesbian, she had ever fallen for him.

So immersed in her study of those fine cheekbones, catlike aquamarine eyes and oddly kissable pout that she failed to hear him conclude his list and ask her a question.

“Molly! Are you even listening? Molly!” Sherlock waved his palm in front of her in exasperation, and she startled, stepping back and gasping with the dawning horror of what had just happened.

“Ah, um Sherlock, I’m so sorry but I was…” she stammered and wished for a pathologist-sized hole to open in the cement floor of the morgue.

He crouched down to level his eyes with hers, switching abruptly from annoyed to concerned, and peered into her eyes. “Are you all right? Have you ever had a seizure?” He stood up and paced around the table. “Because I was just reading about…”

His phone shrilled the martial ring tone she knew belonged to Mycroft, and in exasperation he turned his back to her, stiffened his back and said to the phone: “Yes?”

“Ah, hum.” Sherlock paced across the lab, and back.

“Yes.”

“Must I?” He rolled his eyes.

“I KNOW Sherringford is in town, you don’t have to lecture me Mycroft. I shall do my filial duty, even though I despise these meaningless rituals.”

“Yes, I remember what to bring.”

“No, I will not be late.”

He whirled back to her, gritting his teeth.

“Get me my gall bladders by 1:00pm.” And he stomped out of the morgue.

Sherringford! Molly mused. So, the missing Holmes brother really existed! There had always been rumours, but no wisp of confirmation had ever leaked from the tight-lipped brothers, and she had failed to corner Mummy Holmes at the last Christmas party. That was the one where she was teased about her apparently uncool Hanukah sweater. Well, she’d be damned if she was going to dress to the nines again, not after the previous year’s disaster. She’d had to beat Lestrade off with a stick for months.

As she set to work completing her autopsy, Molly wondered how she could find out more about the mysterious third sibling.

When she delivered his gall bladders to the lab, she also brought coffees and prune hamentashen. To her amazement, Sherlock paused in his work, thanked her for the body parts. He even accepted the coffee and the treat.

“Where did you get this?” He stared at the pastry like it was an unusual insect, turning in in his hand.

“They’re really good, Sherlock. It’s from Gorski’s, on Rugby Street. The best bakery in London” she beamed.

He swooped in for a bite with such suddenness it reminded her of some large awkward bird.

“I love these things!” He sounded amazed, and turned to smile at her, crumbs falling from his mouth.

Molly laughed out loud, unable to contain her glee, and Sherlock straightened up, looked offended, and brushed the crumbs from his lapel.

“It’s OK, Sherlock, they are really, really good. Shall I bring you some more?”

He waved his hand and turned away. “Leave me to my work, I can’t have these interruptions. Between you and my brother, I will accomplish nothing today.”

And that was that. Once he deprived you of eye contact, Molly knew Sherlock wouldn’t give her, or anyone (other than John), the time of day. So she took her coffee and pastries and left, resisting the urge to leave him a second one.

_Continued in part 3_


End file.
